


Problems with Pernicious Pixies

by Nym_Baezel



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, F/M, Inflation, Large Cock, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26190820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nym_Baezel/pseuds/Nym_Baezel
Summary: Alisaie has a few less-than-platonic feelings for Stossen Sotossen, the Warrior of Light, but on a chance visit to the Crystarium, a series of pixie-related mishaps reveal his -big- secret to her, and she gets more than what she bargained for. Alisaie x Lalafell WoL.
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 18





	Problems with Pernicious Pixies

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably mention that this is my first explicit fanfic. I hope you enjoy!

It was a rainy mid-morning at the Crystarium. The cacophonous pitter-patter of droplets belted from the azure crystal panels of the roof of the Musica Universalis. The otherwise bustling marketplace was decidedly calm this day, for a good proportion of the city’s denizens had elected to remain within their domiciles to take shelter from the unrelenting downpour which, as the local Skywatcher predicted, would last all day. Nevertheless, citizens and merchants still went about their business, heedless of the weather. One such individual strode her way through the mercantile district.

Alisaie Leveilleur’s boots briskly thumped over the beige stone bricks, her lithe, pale fingers resting on the handle of her rapier. She was in a very good mood today, despite the dreary weather. She took in the sights of the ironclad masonry of the city, the smells of freshly watered vegetation from the nearby gardens and lawns. The people here appeared to be high spirits, as was all of Norvrandt, since the return of the night, though the Crystarium and its people always seemed to be a particularly inspirited lot. They lived in the imposing shadow of the Crystal Tower, which had become a symbol of hope in the century after the Flood. That era had passed, though, and in no small part due to the actions of Alisaie, her companions, and, most of all, the Warrior of Darkness. On her home realm, however, he was known as the Warrior of Light, though by what lofty title he went by didn’t matter much to her. To her, he was a hero, a friend, and today, the reason why she was here in the city.

After crossing the markets and through the dining area of the Wandering Stairs, Alisaie had finally arrived at her destination: the Pendants. She approached the Elezen, or rather, Elf, as they are known in the First, behind the receptionist desk. The man simply known as the “Manager of Suites” beamed at the young lady and raised a hand in greeting.

“Good morrow to you, my lady! What can I do for the esteemed companion of the Warrior of Darkness?”

Alisaie smiled back. “Good morrow to you as well. I was actually wondering if Stossen is in today.”

The Manager furrowed his brow as he attempted to recall the last time he had seen the Warrior of Darkness’ unmistakable figure.

“I believe he went out quite early this morning,” he said. “Though where, I’m not certain. He was carrying a crate with an alembic and various glasswares.”

Besides being the Warrior of Darkness and a frighteningly powerful Black Mage, Stossen was also a skillful alchemist, so it was not an uncommon sight to see him buried in vials and tomes in his spare time. Peculiar, though, that he would move his operations somewhere other than his room in the Pendants, which is where he spent the majority of his time when he wasn’t out on a hunt or other such errand.

“If I may make a suggestion,” the Manager offered, seeing Alisaie’s perturbed expression. “The vendors of the market might have an inkling as to where he went if he purchased ingredients.”

Alisaie smiled. “Nay, if I know him as well as I do, he’d settle for nothing less than the freshest ingredients, which is why he usually collects them himself.”

“I see, then he must have exited the city,” he surmised. Alisaie shook her head.

“I wouldn’t count on that either. He’s not wont to take his alchemical equipment into the wilds where they would be damaged. He would also want to be within arms reach of it, too, outside his room. If he set up somewhere else in the Crystarium, he’d want some place to get fresh herbs and roots close by.”

After a brief moment, the Manager vocalized a flash of inspiration.

“Ah, the Hortorium! All manner of things are grown there. If he needs fresh reagents, I can think of no better place for malms around. I would advise you speak with Leinneil, the raven-haired Hume. He’ll know if Stossen had passed through.”

Alisaie nodded in agreement. “I shall do so with all haste. I thank you for your help.”

“My pleasure,” he said as he gave a quick bow. “Have a pleasant day, my lady.”

After a brief curtsy, she turned and left the Pendants. Alisaie now had to make her way back through the Musica Universalis, past the Rotunda, and descend into the Trivium where the herbalists of the Hortorium practiced their craft. While she spent most of her time in the First abroad, she did acquaint herself well with the Crystarium in the first weeks of her arrival. She knew the stunning city well enough, with all the verbose names the Crystal Exarch came up with for the various districts. The Hortorium, however, was one of her least-visited places. She has not seen much of it, besides a handful of passing glances on her way to the Cabinet of Curiosity when she wanted for reading material.

As she walked, though, her thoughts turned to the Warrior of Light. Stossen Sotossen has an unfathomable litany of victories and achievements to his name. He was a stalwart adventurer, a slayer of Primals, an envoy of peace, liberator of realms, and savior of entire Stars… yet he chose to be reticent in every day life. He did not want for attention, accolades, or even company. He always seemed to be eager to help with tasks of common people both monumental and mundane, yet he asks for little in the way of rewards and is reluctant to be showered with wealth. If one didn’t know any better, one would think that he was resentful of his reputation as a figure of legend. Regardless of his brusque demeanor, he was still kind, thoughtful, strong, brave, and even handsome… even though he was a Lalafell.

Alisaie’s expression involuntarily soured. _“And I’m just some Elezen brat,”_ she thought, her own words cutting deep. She could no longer deny the intense and confusing mix of emotions she had in relation to the diminutive mage. Her fondness of her friend only grew during their time in the Far East. His unrelenting determination, courage, and compassion left an impression on her, an impression followed her even when he wasn’t around. It even followed her to her bed, while she was alone, with both arms wrapped desperately around her pillow, pretending it was his petite body as she pleasured herself with it, stifling moans and whimpers. She always felt so empty and pathetic afterwards, yet she continued night after lonely night, especially after her sudden departure from the Source. The year leading up to Stossen’s arrival was agonizing. So great was her desire to see his face again that she nearly asked her brother, Alphinaud, to draw a picture of him, ideally one small enough to fit in her hand as she… well, suffice to say, he would have found that beyond suspicious. Even when Stossen did arrive in the First, she did her utmost to suppress her ardor for him in his presence. She was resigned to the dismal conclusion that Stossen would probably only have eyes for a girl of his own race, not some brazen Elezen upstart half his age, twice his height, and a fraction of his maturity.

Still, if she had completely given up, she wouldn’t have been there that day to ask for his company. She hoped that simply being in his presence would clam the aching maelstrom in her chest, and perhaps, it could lead to something more after all.

Little to Alisaie’s knowledge as she strode past the Aetheryte Plaza, a faintly twinkling figure watched her from the rafters. It beamed with devilish delight as it silently followed the Elezen into the Trivium.

* * *

As Alisaie descended the wide stone stairs to the subterranean complex, the humidity intensified and she could hear the distant roar of waterfalls. It was but a quick jaunt and a turn until she found herself in the Hortorium. It was a magnificent sight to behold and a wonder that would not be found anywhere else on Norvrandt. It was dimly lit, with only the odd lamp and the eerie glow of bio-luminescent plants to light the wooden platforms that made up the walking areas. Trees and fauna of every variety grew from their magicked vessels, filling the air with the weighty scent of vegetation. Herbs and crops were nursed to the ideal size in alchemical water until they were deemed to be ready for planting in the gardens above. A great cauldron stood in the back, its contents constantly churned by an enchanted rod. The workers of the Hortorium were a diligent lot of alchemists and botanists who strove to produce the most efficient and sustainable produce to feed the people of the Crystarium and beyond. A laudable vocation, though not at all within Alisaie’s interests. Perhaps it might pique the interest of her brother but she was not given to scientific pursuits as much as him.

It wasn’t long before she spotted the Hume of whom the manager spoke. Leinneil dressed no differently from the other workers, but he was easy enough to identify. He was speaking to another of his colleagues when he noticed the Elezen girl was approaching him. He concluded his conversation with the other, who turned and strode briskly away to presumably resume important work, and addressed Alisaie.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he spoke loudly, as was necessary to be heard over the waterfalls and aquatic machinations of the Hortorium. “Is there aught I can do to assist you?”

“Good morning,” she returned. “I’m looking for my friend, Stossen, and was told he was likely around here.”

The most peculiar expression flashed across Leinneil’s face, like a card shark whose tricks had been laid bare. He regained his composure quickly, albeit imperfectly, as all he had to show for his efforts was a nervous smile.

“I-I’m afraid I’ve not seen hide nor hair of him, ma’am.”

It goes without saying that the sharp-witted Alisaie was not at all convinced, and she made it known through her withering glare.

“You’ve not seen him at all, you say? Because I know there are scant few places he’d relocate his alembic and measuring glasses for want of ingredients.”

The Hume gulped. He never expected to be so intimidated by a young woman a head shorter than him.

“Well, there are other places he might avail himself of such… for instance… uh…”

Alisaie had no reason to suspect the people of the Crystarium to do something nefarious, yet his obvious attempts at beguilement were nonetheless testing her patience. Her glare intensified, and after failing to find the words to continue his ruse, Leinneil finally slumped his shoulders in defeat.

“Well, you are the Warrior of Darkness’ friend, after all.”

The Elezen crossed her arms. “Have you seen him? Will you tell me where he is?”

He cast a wary glance to his left and his right and leaned in close. “I apologize for my deception. It’s important that no one else knows where he is right now.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.”

Alisaie’s consternation grew. Why was this charade necessary? Was he trying to hide from someone?

“He’s over in that store room,” Leinneil gestured with his head toward a door on the very north end of. the Hortorium. He then pulled a small key from his robe and quickly placed it in her hand. “Be sure to leave with some manner of crate or spare pot when you’re done and put it by my station.”

He leaned back and raised his voice. “Thank you very much for your help, young lady!”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Alisaie still exceedingly confused. Nevertheless, she took the key and trotted off over the iron-braced wooden platforms to the door in question. It wasn’t very well lit, which is to be expected for something that was hardly ever used. Even still, she managed to find the keyhole, unlock the creaky wooden door, and quietly step in, shutting the door behind her.

There he was, finally, standing atop a small wooden box, looking over a meager fare of tomes, loose papers, vials, liquid-filled flasks, and a bubbling alembic, lit by the warm light of a couple oil lamps situated on either side of the table. He was so engrossed in his work, it seemed, that he didn’t notice the Elezen enter, even with the roar of water outside. His nose was almost touching the pages of a book as he followed the text with one hand and scribbled notes with a quill in the other. Alisaie cleared her throat.

“Stossen?”

Despite her best effort to not startle him, the Lalafell jumped regardless, likely leaving an inky streak on his notes. He whirled around, nearly losing balance on his perch, to face the disturbance.

Stossen was a robust Dunesfolk, with dark brown skin, gray hair that was braided into a ponytail, and lustrous green eyes atop a befreckled face. Despite his relatively young age, he sported a tiny gray beard below his lip, a feature more common with older Lalafellin folk. Alisaie knew his face well, but she can’t help but be enraptured by it. Never did she imagine in her younger days that she’d come to long after those cherubic features. The endless depths of his emerald eyes, the adorable discolored nose. She felt her heart skip a beat. With her work in Amh Arang, it had been a while since she last spoke to the champion of the Scions, and her yearning threatened to get the better of her. Thankfully, she managed to hold her composure.

“Alisaie! I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting…”

“It’s quite alright. I apologize for startling you so.”

He turned around, finishing his notes and placing the quill in its well. “It’s alright. Just me being jumpy as usual, though I had thought I’ve done a decent job at hiding myself away up to this point.”

Alisaie gave a bemused, yet quizzical expression. “What in the world is all of this about, anyway? I had to shake down that poor man outside for your whereabouts.”

Stossen turned back to his companion and hesitated for a moment. “It’s… nothing serious, just… having trouble with some pixies.”

The Elezen raised an eyebrow. “What sort of trouble?”

His face fell as he attempted to parse the events of the early morning and the impetus for his seclusion in less embarrassing terms…

* * *

Stossen stirred in his bed in the Pendants. He felt sluggish and chilly. In the back of his mind, he immediately knew that he had returned to consciousness too early for his liking and something was off. Something felt… odd. A tightness in his chest and a pressure building in his loins.

His eyes fluttered open. Though his vision was blurry at first, it didn’t take long to make out the unmistakable sight of two glimmering pixies clinging fast to his prodigious morning wood.

“Wheee!” the one atop the tip of his cock shouted, clinging to the foreskin of his swaying member like they were taming a wild bucking chocobo.

“Hehe,” the one kneeling on his balls with their arms barely wrapped around his girth chortled. “The more ye grind against it, th’ more it twitches!”

Stossen wrenched his eyes open. He attempted to thrash about, but while the blankets were all pulled aside, he found his limbs unwilling to move, still gripped by sleep.

“W-what are you-? What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Ah, Feo Ul’s [little sapling] is finally returned to the waking world,” the one at the base of his dick peeked their head from behind. “Ye quite the heavy sleeper!”

“They never told us... about this wonderful... plaything ye’ve been hiding!” the one on top said in between attempts to tame their fleshy steed, which was now throbbing vigorously.

“It’s sprung a leak, though,” the lower pixie said, referring to the cascade of slick precum that now coated their arms and body.

“I don’t-! Ahh...!”

A moan came unbidden from his lips. He was very close. They must have really been at it for a while, for he could tell that it was going to be a big one. His cock began to swell larger.

“Oh!” the one atop his sack shifted and pressed their ear to the swelling member, listening to the nigh-inaudible gurgling sound of the mounting pressure. “It speaks to me!”

The pixie on top ceased her undulations and leaned towards their companion. “What does it say?”

With a powerful spasm, a great, white gout of seed blasted from the tip, catching the riding pixie right in the face, sending them hurdling through the air and landing on Stossen’s face with a sloppy smack. Their companion pointed and laughed at their misfortune, until they, too, had a glob of pearly goo land atop their head. Throb after throb, the overly-endowed Lalafell ejaculated thick ropes of cum high into the air, making a mess of the bed and the nearby floor and wall. He groaned and gasped uncontrollably through the seed-slick pixie struggling to find purchase on his face. His hips bucked and his legs shook. His orgasm lasting a good half minute before finally abating and he lay exhausted on the now soiled sheets, panting and sweaty, his still-leaking member going limp. The two trouble-making pixies cackled like madmen and they half-flew, half-stumbled away, the viscous ejaculate hampering their mobility, leaving a slimy trail stretching across the room all the way to the open window, where they took proper flight with mild success.

When Stossen eventually recovered, cleaned himself, removed the sheets from the bed, mopped up what was left of the drying cum with what rags he could find, he was in a most unsavory mood. Some might think his virility might be a wonderful curse to have, but it was a curse nonetheless. His manhood demanded his attention practically every day, and when he didn’t satisfy it, things like this would happen. Not usually brought about by errant little fae creatures, but there were many times he awoke to find a stringy cavern of ruined bedding under his sheets. As was the case, he usually endeavored to relieve himself in a shower, a toilet, or if he was truly desperate, a very, _very_ secluded bush. He even had a special tomestone that was filled with lurid pictures of naked Allagan women to help… speed up the process. It was a relic that would be worth a fortune to the likes of Rowena, but absolutely priceless for him. The past few days, however, were so busy that he had little to no time to quell his bothersome libido, and he just paid for that mistake.

After the tedious task of cleaning was, save the washing of the sheets and rags, complete, he donned his inky wizard robes and his favorite scarlet pince-nez, garb that he would later change out of, but the vestments of ancient Mhach helped him immensely in situations where he wanted to be taken seriously, such as this one. Stossen strode to the faerie bell that stood near the door and gave it a firm ring. With a flash and a sparkle, Feo Ul, Pixie King of Il Mheg, appeared before him without a moment’s hesitation.

Feo Ul was an enigmatic being, to say the very least. Pixies are usually difficult to negotiate with, but with the help of the Crystal Exarch, Stossen forged a pact with them. It was a pact that proved to be indispensable when he and the Scions forayed into Il Mheg to free it from the influence of their then-corrupted Lightwarden king, Titania, and installed Feo Ul as the new king. Not to mention they were also willing to ferry his belonging back-and-forth between realms to his retainers, a service which made staying in the First more manageable. Yet, Stossen did not like interacting with pixies overmuch, recent events notwithstanding. Their cheery and caviler demeanor belied their dangerous nature, such as their propensity to transmute mortals into fauna. That said, Stossen knew he could rely on Feo Ul, possibly the only pixie in all of Norvrandt with an onze of sense.

“Good morning, my [little sapling],” they chirped in their enigmatic fae tongue. “What can your [beautiful branch] do for you today?”

“Two of your subjects were here this morning,” the Dunesfolk grumbled, his stubby arms crossed in a display of disapproval. “They… played a practical joke on me and I do not appreciate it.”

To his dismay, Feo Ul’s impish grin only intensified. “Ye needn’t share the details with me, sapling, I saw it playing out. My [little sapling] is more of a [towering oak], it seems!”

Stossen’s face grew several shades redder behind his impassive shades. He would rather not contemplate the ever-increasing number of omniscient beings that can bear witness to his private moments.

“W-well make them not do that again.”

The pixie shook their head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“But you’re their king!”

“It’s not that simple,” they said with a shrug. “I may be their king, but pixies will be pixies. My dictates are mere strongly-worded suggestions for the most part. Ye can’t change their nature any more than ye can change the sky!”

Stossen furrowed his brow. “But I did change the-”

“Agh! Ye know what I meant,” they snapped. “It’s a dated expression now, thanks to you.” They stabbed a tiny finger in Stossen’s direction. “Ye didn’t look like ye hated it, anyway!”

“That’s just because… that’s only…” he unfolded his arms and stomped his little foot. “That’s not the point! It took me damn-near a whole bell to clean it all up!”

Feo Ul only offered a titter in return. The Lalafell’s posture sank. It was already bad enough losing sleep over the Ascians’ machinations, he didn’t want to also worry about lewd and irreverent fae creatures visiting him in the small hours of the morning.

“Is there truly nothing else you can do?”

They put their head in their hand contemplatively. “I can certainly try, but ye’d best prepare yourself. It won’t be long until all pixie-kind has heard of the Warrior of Darkness and the great yogurt-spittin’ serpent he keeps in his trousers!”

Stossen wasn’t sure if there was anyone, on any star, that could offer a reply to that.

“Farewell, my [towering oak!]”

With that, Feo Ul vanished in a small shower of sparkles.

* * *

“They’ve… just been more pushy than usual.” Stossen finally said, thoughtfully electing not to share the details. “I’ve been working on something important for the past few days, and I didn’t want them making a mess- er, messing things up.”

Alisaie got the sense there was more to it, but didn’t bother to press. The Lalafell had already returned to his beakers and books.

“What _are_ you working on, by the way?”

“The amaro keeper… Szem Djenmai, I think his name was… he said he was having trouble with his breeding stock.”

Alisaie recalled with her mind’s eye Szem, the hulking Amalj’aa, no, Zun, as they were in the First. In the Source, such people would be feared as the brutal and merciless raiders of Thanalan, but in this world, they seemed to be gentle giants with a fondness for a bucolic lifestyle of raising and taming the amaro, the strange dark-feathered riding birds with two sets of wings. It was an indispensable service they provided to the Crystarium and the wider realm, those birds, and for that, their kind was not only a common sight, but a welcome one. If only it were the same in her world, she thought. If whatever racial conflicts could be alleviated in the First, there may yet be hope for the ongoing Primal problem in the Source.

“He said they weren’t mating at all this season,” he continued. “Likely an unintended side effect of the return of the night. They’re very sensitive beasts.”

Stossen picked up a round flask with his pudgy hand and held up it to show Alisaie. It was filled with a bright magenta liquid.

“With a couple drops of this in their water trough, the amaro should be more willing to mate.”

Alisaie smiled. One would think that such a task would be below someone who was mostly known for his adventuring, martial prowess, and other feats of derring-do, but for Stossen, he seemed to treat all tasks, no matter how tedious, like it was his sacred duty. It seemed there was hardly ever a moment when he wasn’t busy with something. Though, on another note, this talk of “mating” wasn’t helping her cope with her gnawing lust.

“That’s… wonderful, Stossen,” she said after a pause, though the Lalafell was already reabsorbed into his task at hand, writing more notes and tending to the substance dripping from the alembic.

“So, what did you want to want to find me for?” Stossen asked in the midst of writing.

Alisaie blinked. So enraptured she was, watching him work, she nearly forgot the whole reason she came here.

“Well, I… uh…”

Stossen had paused once again to glance back at her as she struggled with the simple task of forming a sentence.

“Well, it’s a lovely day… alright, it’s not that lovely of a day…” she stammered. “It’s a little rainy, well, it’s actually pouring rain outside, but t-that doesn’t matter. I… I was in the city for a spell and, well, I was wondering if you wanted to… have lunch with me? A-at the Stairs?”

No matter how you looked at it, her request came with all the grace of a goobbue in an Ishgardian stoneware boutique. Still, the Dunesfolk pondered her invitation for a few moments.

“I… I’d love to… but I’m not sure if I’ll have time today… I need to finish this up first. I believe I’m quite nearly done… with this…” he meandered on as he started briskly thumbing through the pages of a medium-sized tome.

Alisaie stared off at nothing in particular as she felt her anxiety evaporate and be replaced by… emptiness? Disappointment? Shame? She wasn’t sure what kind of response she was expecting. It wasn’t a “no,” but it wasn’t a “yes,” either. Was this too sudden? Had she overstepped her boundaries? It was merely lunch, after all, though the buildup to her asking felt so tremendous for some reason, like she was going to get down on her knees and confess her undying love to him then and there. Her expression darkened. She did it again, she thought. She got too wrapped up in her own thoughts and passions that she forgot what reality actually looked like. He was the Warrior of Light, and she was just his friend; his companion under the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. The only romantic tension between them were demonstrably one-sided. Alisaie knew this to be the truth, but she wished the truth didn’t sting so much.

In the midst of Alisaie’s brooding, Stossen had picked up and buried his face in the tome he was searching through, absentmindedly shuffling about to face the Elezen once again.

“The approximation to _what_ aetheric state…?” he muttered, as if the inanimate object could be forcefully interrogated.

Alisaie refocused back on him, parting her lips to offer a tentative farewell, when something caught her eye that nearly made her audibly exclaim.

Face obscured by the leather binding of the tome, she had finally noticed that the Lalafell’s attire and it dawned on her that she hardly ever saw the man dressed in anything other than the flowing, almost excessive panoply of a spellcaster. Today, however, he was wearing a black cotton pullover and a loose-fitting pair of kecks. As Alisaie’s gaze was unconsciously drawn southward, she saw those trousers looked as though they were hiding what she only describe as a mound approaching the size of a _Highlander Hyur’s fist_ bulging out between the fork of his legs. She blinked hard, then blinked hard again, then she brought her hands up and rubbed her eyes to make sure that it wasn’t a hallucination conjured by her horny imagination. The bulge was still there. Her mind reeled. Had she truly never noticed before? She could see the unmistakable shape of a flaccid shaft and testes practically straining beneath the cloth. She had never thought it possible. By what process, natural or otherwise, could a diminutive Lalafell be endowed with such an… endowment?! Her mouth hung agape. Her heart fluttered erratically in her chest and her loins began to moisten involuntarily.

“I think I’ve figured this out. I can probably still do lunch today if… uh… “ Stossen removed the book from his face to find his friend wearing the most peculiar expression. “…Alisaie? Is something wrong?”

The dumbstruck Elezen careened back to reality, mouth still hanging open and noticeably rosy-cheeked.

“I-I-I… well I… n-no! Nothing’s wrong! I just… I-I can just… can we meet up tomorrow, i-instead…?”

“Well, alright, if you say so.” Stossen was still puzzled at her strange behavior, but, then again, he wasn’t expecting her to simply ask for lunch. He always assumed she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Alisaie, meanwhile, wished nothing more than to rush to a room in the Pendants and relieve herself with the help of a pillow and her fingers, possibly for the rest of the day. Her composure was dissolving by the second as her smallclothes became saturated with her feminine juices.

Unbeknownst to the both of them, though, there was a third occupant in the modest storage closet, one who managed to slip in with a silent flutter as the oblivious girl opened the door. They grinned devilishly from behind one of the stacked boxes as the two mortals conversed. They knew the young Elf from Il Mheg, the one who had a twin. Quite the un-fun pair of mortals, the twins, they couldn’t see the absolute majesty of the idea of switching clothes to fool their companions! They knew that following her would lead them to _him._ The pixie was also quite vexed when they couldn’t play with the tiny, rotund mortal for eternity on the count of his pact with Feo Ul. Well, they thought, Feo Ul didn’t say anything about tormenting them for a less-than-eternal period of time, and they had just heard the juiciest tidbit from their fellow pixies; something about the small mortal’s most puissant trouser serpent! It was supposedly a savage beast that would make the most spectacular, gooey messes! The pixie didn’t care if it took them all day, they would expose that mortal’s weakness and let that serpent out to wreak havoc! The only problem was, they had no idea what such a feat would require, but an idea formed in their mind as they laid eyes on his collection of volatile chemicals.

As the Warrior of Darkness’ back was turned away from the table and his female companion appeared to be focused on something else, the unscrupulous pixie dashed over to the table and began shuffling the glass tubes that appeared to be meticulously sorted and labeled upon a wooden stand. Then, they shuffled around some similar-looking half full beakers for good measure, and zipped back to their hiding spot. A warm-up, one might have called it. It was a simple trick that had worked once or twice on the Nu Mou before most of them wised up and labeled their alchemical sets more thoroughly. This mortal was not quite as wise. Whatever was to come of their slight-of-hand would have merely been a prelude to a lengthy campaign to raise the ire of that trouser-beast and coax it out by whatever means necessary. What actually resulted from the relatively innocuous prank was something the pixie could have never predicted.

“Actually, um,” Alisaie said in the midst of keeping her balance on her weakening knees. “Uh, Leinneil told me to grab something while I was in here, I s-suppose to make it look like I was running an errand for him…”

Stossen sniggered briefly. “I wouldn’t have gone that far, but fair enough. I really don’t think I need to keep this charade up much longer, I’m nearly done. I just need to catalyze this…”

As the flustered Elezen reached for an empty clay pot, he took the magenta mixture in one and a vial from his rack in the other. He carefully dispensed a dribble of the contents into the larger container and gingerly swished it. The concoction quickly began bubbling up to the neck of the vessel. Stossen furrowed his brow.

“Hm?”

Alisaie heard a loud pop. She immediately turned to Stossen, where an opaque, purple cloud had appeared where the Lalafell ought to be. All of her impure daydreaming was wiped away in an instant, replaced by a burning call to action.

“Stossen!” she cried and drew her rapier and magical focus. The two locked together to form the iconic staff of the Red Mage as she focused her magical energies into a wind-aspected spell. With a wave, the spell was unleashed at the cloud. It was a lesser incantation of Veraero, one that did no damage, but swept the noxious substance in its currents and carried it upward, where it dissipated along the ceiling. Stossen was lying on the floor, having fallen off his makeshift stool, hacking and coughing. Alisaie rushed to kneel down beside him.

“Are you alright?” she pleaded.

“I’m… fine…” he assured between coughs.

“That potion… is it dangerous to breathe that in?”

“It’s okay…” he managed to recover and was sitting upright. “I’m… pretty sure it only affects amaro-”

_Rip!_

The Lalafell turned his gaze downward in shock and horror as the seams of his pants audibly gave away. His shaft lengthened and arced higher and higher under the failing fabric. He tried cupping his puny hands over his growing indecency to laughably little effect. With every beat, it grew, tearing away more fabric, until finally, his member sprung free from the confines of the overburdened article of clothing and leaving his kecks in tatters. It rose higher, angry veins bulging out from the still-thickening cock. Every throb pushed the flesh to its limits, until the reddish-brown member was ramrod straight with impossible steel hardness, twitching to the rhythm of Stossen’s racing heart. Alisaie had covered her eyes, yet they were still wide open, watching the unfolding events through the gaps of her trembling fingers.

It was massive, monstrous, larger than she could have ever predicted. Fifteen, no, _sixteen ilms,_ by her estimation, of pulsing Lala-cock, complete with a hefty set of balls that reached halfway down his thighs.

“Ah! Don’t look! Don’t look!” he shouted and turned away from the girl, pushing down on the raging boner in a vain attempt to stow it away.

“Oh my… oh my gods…” Alisaie panted.

“I’m sorry! I-I’ll just… take care of this.” His voice cracked a little as he winced at the excessive pressure he was feeling. His dick was harder than it had ever been and it felt like it was getting harder by the second. Precum started leaking profusely from the tip of the swollen head. It was starting to _hurt._ “Just leave the room! The effect- ah! ...will wear off eventually, I think!”

Her head was burning up inside and her face was almost as red as a beat, yet Alisaie could bring herself to retreat. She sat there, on her knees, face still cradles in her hands. She could feel her juices trickling down her thighs and buttocks and into her boots. She felt like she was at a crossroad and she knew the proper thing to do was to give her afflicted friend the privacy he pleaded for, but she was not in the right mind to make that sort of decision.

Then, the scent of his precum reached her nose. Whatever vestiges of propriety left in her sexual fantasy-addled brain shattered. A flame ignited deep in her belly. She knew what she had to do.

“N-n-no! No! I-I can’t…” she spat out at last. Stossen gave her a look of incredulity. “I-I can’t leave… you… you look like you’re in pain…!”

“Alisaie, what…?”

She lowered her hand and began removing her half-jacket and sleeves, setting them aside with her armaments. Then she removed her tunic, leaving only a plain bra to cover her petite bosom and a noticeably damp pair of briefs to hide her nethers. Her heart was pounding a malm-a-minute as she crawled closer towards the stupefied Lalafell.

“L-let me help, please,” she said softly. “C-can you… turn around?”

Stossen suspected he was quickly losing his ability to think clearly as well, his towering erection demanding stimulation. He knew, in the back of his mind, he could trust his fierce and stalwart friend, but he also felt deeply ashamed and vulnerable. He never wanted to be seen like this. Still, he knew how insistent the young lady could be, so, lacking a better option or the will to object, he hesitantly turned to face her.

Alisaie’s heart caught in her throat at his cock came back into view. She still couldn’t believe how enormous it was. The swollen head of the member was already free of its foreskin, so erect that it was. She inhaled. The smell of his overwhelming maleness electrified her brain, fanning the flames of her primal urges and further dampening her loins. She carefully reached out and brushed it with her fingertips. His dick twitched mightily and a gout of clear precum was forced out form the tip. Alisaie then gently grabbed his shaft, eliciting yet another glob of precum. Stossen shivered. It was hot to the touch and so thick her pale, slender fingers couldn’t even wrap around completely. She gulped, suddenly very nervous.

“It’s… big,” she said flatly, possibly contending for the greatest understatement of the day and the ten summers thereafter.

“I know…” Stossen replied, taking his turn to attempt to shield his eyes from the lurid act taking place.

Alisaie hadn’t the faintest idea of what she was doing. It was only recently that she had interest in the opposite sex in all her years of studying in Sharlayan and gallivanting with the Scions. She never thought to research on how to please a man, and, frankly, she wouldn’t even know the first place to look. She thought it would just come to her naturally, yet as she awkwardly gripped the pulsing prick, looking between it and the Lalafell’s flushed face, no ideas appeared. She did the next best thing and improvised, sliding her clenched hand down the slick shaft all the way to the base until her hand touched his plush scrotum. He let out a deep groan and she cracked a timid smile. That seemed to do the trick, so she began stroking it in the other direction, gliding her palm across the copious length, feeling every throbbing vein as it traveled to the bulbous head, where she started rubbing it like she was polishing a crystal ball.

“Uhhg… Alisaie…” Stossen moaned.

“Um... does that feel good?” She returned to her ponderous stroking motion.

“Y-yes, I… I think I’m gonna… uhh!”

His dick swelled larger in her hand, widening her grip even further. Without much in the way of a warning, Stossen thrust his hips forward and came. The first shot of cum hit her in the chest, the second in her face. She sputtered and screwed her eyes shut at the sudden onslaught of his hot fluids as he tried to stifle his grunts with his hand. His cock thrashed and shot eleven or twelve more thick ropes of semen past the Elezen girl’s head, some smacking against the door, before lessening to a trickle.

Alisaie tried to steady herself. This was too intense, she thought. Without thinking, she licked the fresh seed off her lips. It was bitter, sour, and, as she swallowed, it seemed to sting her throat. It was… absolutely _heavenly._ She wanted, no, _needed_ more.

“S-sorry…” Stossen stammered, seeing the mess he made on his friend’s face. His eyes widened when he saw her scoop the cooling cum off her chest and greedily lap it up. She gulped it down audibly.

“What on earth are you apologizing for…?” she cooed, looking at the Lalafell with hungry eyes as she undid her bra and let the article slip from her shoulders. Her nipples stood erect on her perky, young breasts.

“O-oh, Twelve…” he squeaked, a tumultuous mix of emotions running through his psyche as the eager girl leaned back down and planted her supple lips on the tip of his cock, giving it a gentle suck as she steadily stroked it. It was still hard as Darksteel, a fact that would concern him if not for his all-encompassing need for release. He also felt a strange tingling sensation overtake his balls. Alisaie moaned as she sucked, sticking her tongue out and stimulating his glans, coaxing more delicious, clear nectar from him. Her nethers dripped like a leaky faucet and she was completely lost in the moment. She desperately wanted to take more of his wonderful manhood into her mouth, but it was far too thick, and she couldn’t pry her jaw open enough. She settled for bobbing her head slightly as she worked his shaft with more vigor.

With even less warning than the last time, Stossen’s cock gave a powerful throb and he came a second time. Alisaie’s cheek ballooned out as the first spurt of steaming spunk flooded her mouth all the way to the back of her throat. The unrelenting onslaught of cum continued, jetting out from the corners of her mouth until she was forced to relent, letting the semen spill from her mouth, coughing and gagging. Stossen let loose a throaty growl, tongue hanging out, as he forced fourteen more ropes of viscous jizz straight up into the air, letting it cascade back down on the pair. His orgasm abated, but he was still left with a painfully stiff member. He felt a burgeoning pressure take hold in his gonads. They tingled and swelled in his sack. His head was swimming and tears began forming in his eyes.

“Ooh… it hurts…” he whimpered and buried his face in his hands. “It shouldn’t be this strong… oh gods… what have I done…? It hurts…”

Alisaie recovered from the deluge and became genuinely concerned. She could hear the genuine anguish in her friend’s voice.

“It’s okay, alright? Calm down. I’m here for you, Stossen…”

She needed to soothe him somehow, that was her one and only duty for the moment. Without putting much thought into it, she reached for the Lalafell’s shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside. She then gingerly lifted up the diminutive man and shifted her body around so that he was sitting on her lap and her bare chest was pressing firmly against his naked back. She then simultaneously began tenderly massaging his chest with one hand and stroking his excessively long member with the other. She wasn’t sure if this was the best course of action, but she simply felt the need to embrace him, and he seemed to be calmer for it, softly exhaling as the larger Elezen rocked him back and forth. Alisaie leaned towards his braided gray hair, taking in yet another one of his scents, and praising the almighty gods above for it. Everything about him was just so _intoxicating._ She was in such overwhelming bliss and she wanted nothing but share that bliss with him. She wanted to hold him and embrace him and be intimate with him long into the night and forevermore. Unfortunately, it seemed the alchemical miasma only burdened him with a frightful libido. In actuality, the situation was more dire than Alisaie realized.

Another guttural moan spilled from the Dunesfolk and another colossal throb overtook his cock as he careened into his third orgasm. His urethra dilated to heretofore unseen proportions and he shot semen across the room with abandon. His climaxes were becoming even more intense, evidenced by the outrageous amount of pearly white cum surging from his dick, which far exceeded the amount he had previously ejaculated. Even still, his gigantic manhood remained erect and twitching like mad. Alisaie started to panic.

“Where is all this coming from?!” she cried.

Stossen was on the verge of sobbing. He was barely capable of forming a complete thought, so addled was his mind with agonizing lust.

“Ehh hurtsss… they h-hu-u-urt…”

Alisaie reached for his sack. To her horror, they were red, hot, and swollen. They nearly reached to his knees with how large they had become. His scrotum was tight as a drum, straining to contain the ponderous orbs. She could almost feel the seed roiling within, desperate to escape. If she didn’t do anything soon, they were like to burst! Alisaie was not at all used to seeing the indomitable Warrior of Light in such distress. She knew he had a great tolerance to pain, but this sort of agony came from a very vulnerable part of him.

She gulped once more, her heart filled with trepidation. She was nearly at her wit’s end, and the hunger growing in her loins could no longer be ignored.

Without uttering a word, Alisaie stood up and began removing her long boots. Then, with trembling hands, she slipped her thumbs under the waistband of her final article of clothing. Her briefs clung to the flesh of her nethers, so sticky they were from her ceaseless flow of feminine lubricant, as they slid down the length of her slender legs. With an unceremonious flick of her foot, the smallclothes were discarded, and they landed with a wet plap.

Stossen stared at Alisaie’s naked form. She didn’t have much in the way of curves, but she had a subtle womanly waist and hips, and her skin was fair and smooth, save a sparse patch of well-groomed hair above her rosy pussy. She was quite toned, likely from years of training, sparring, and other such physical demands of fighting and adventuring. The tormented Lalafell achieved a brief moment of clarity through the alchemically-induced mental haze. He never truly realized how _stunning_ she was.

“Um…” Alisaie began, biting her knuckle anxiously. She couldn’t meet Stossen’s eyes. She knew that she _wanted_ this, but now, standing completely exposed before the subject of her ardor, her chest felt tight and she wasn’t sure if her heart was quite ready. She wasn’t sure if her _body_ was ready, either. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, glimmering juices still trickling down her legs.

“Well I…” she began again. “I… It’s clear that y-you require more… s-stimulation, so…” she stooped down, planted her butt on the cum-slick floor, put her hands on her thighs, and spread her legs. Her nethers were now in clear view. “G-go ahead… I’m ready…”

Stossen bit his hand and inhaled sharply. “I-I can’t! I don’t… I don’t think it will- ah!”

He cried as his cock gave a painful throb. The lewd display was sending him over the edge, adding to the already burgeoning feeling of _need._ Still, as he clung to the remaining vestiges of his sanity, he knew he absolutely _could not_ violate his friend like the dark fantasies in his head hounded him to do, no matter the cost.

“Why…” he choked. “Why are doing this? I-I don’t want to h-hurt you!”

“I’m not going to see you suffer!” she retorted. “And you’re not going to hurt me! You could never, not in a million years, hurt me, because I lo-!”

The words nearly spilled out. Stossen finally met Alisaie’s now-tearful eyes. His mouth was agape and he had no words. The Elezen swallowed hard.

“I… really, _really_ adore you, Stossen, but I could n-never bring myself to tell you because I’m… I figured you’d want n-nothing to do with me… I’m just some bratty little girl…”

She bit her lower lip and shut her eyes. Ignoring her howling embarrassment, she spread her labia wide for him, revealing her pink depths.

“Please… if you’ll indulge me… just this once…”

The following events were a blur. She heard him scuttle to his feet and felt his stubby arms gripping her thighs. Then, she felt the tip of his sweltering manhood press against her crotch. She gasped. His cock slipped upwards and his length traveled across her belly until his swollen sack smacked against her buttocks. Alisaie opened her eyes to Stossen’s half-lidded emerald eyes… and the drooling tip of his massive cock. Its length covered most of her torso, the tip reaching to her sternum. He was unfocused, his ability to reason finally discarded, leaving only a slack-jawed horny beast to move his body. He thrust his hips, grinding his member against Alisaie’s clitoris, spewing a steady stream of precum onto her breasts. The sensation was too much and she careened over the edge. Her body locked up, her toes curled, and her pussy gushed all over his sack. She cried out and coiled around his dwarfish body, hugging him tightly as she shook and writhed. She experienced a climax of unimaginable proportions, with Stossen’s warm and sweaty body finally in her arms, rather than another pillow. Tears of joy streamed down her face.

Her orgasm passed. Alisaie was gasping for breath like she had been underwater and finally had a taste of air. A voice in the back of her head reminded her that she still had a duty to perform. She relinquished her grip around the Lalafell and grabbed his cock, guiding the gooey tip back down to her pussy. As it pressed against her crotch once again, she braced herself. She knew it was too big, but she had ignored that fact up until now. The bulbous head stretched the pink folds of her entrance wider and wider. She gritted her teeth. It felt like her petite body was going to be split in twain! Still, she couldn’t relent. Alisaie had to believe she could take it. She had to do it! For Stossen! She groaned and winced as the head pressed into her, a fraction of an ilm at a time, her white-knuckled grip holding it firmly in place. Stossen grunted with her as he tightened his hold around her thighs and pulled himself closer.

At long last, the head of his colossal Lala-dick plunged inside. Alisaie stifled a scream as another orgasm wracked her body. She experienced a cornucopia of both pain and pleasure, all at a rate her mind could not process. She squirted more girlcum onto Stossen’s cock as a pithy trickle of blood formed around the seam where the two connected. Stossen, meanwhile, bothered not with gentlemanly protocols and speared more of his throbbing fuckrod into Alisaie’s depths, until a good third of it was inside. Her belly bulged with the shape of his manhood. His tongue lolled out and his cock thickened.

On the heels of her climax, he came a forth time. The jet of near-scalding jizz pierced into her womb and almost filled her up to capacity in the first shot. Her brain turned to mush as the subsequent shots poured into the very core of her being. Cum exploded out the otherwise water-tight grip she held around his cock. Alisaie’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she expelled an animalistic wail.

“Oh gods! Oh gods! Oh gods…!”

The deluge ceased. Alisaie laid on the damp wooden floor, panting. She basked in the feeling of fullness she felt in her womb. It was divine. All memories of pain vanished. Stossen’s incredible rod merely felt snug in her cavern now. He was also panting and dripping with a mixture of sweat and wayward seed, but remained steady as he loomed over her. His eyes took on a frenzied glint and he mumbled something the contented Elezen didn’t quite hear.

“What did… you say…?” she asked between breaths.

“...breed… you…” he growled. Alisaie’s blood turned to ice. She didn’t, _couldn’t_ have possibly known, but she had awoken a monster within him that had lain dormant all his life, and that sexual fiend was _nowhere near satisfied._

Stossen grabbed her hips and, summoning strength that belied his stature, slammed two or three more ilms of his member into her pussy, bringing it neatly halfway inside her, with eight more steely ilms to go. Alisaie screamed. She laid helpless as the Lalafell pounded the extremities of her overstretched cunt. He gave no quarter, no mercy, ponderously withdrawing his rod to the head, only to drive it back in again, forcing more of his endless fertile emissions into her overtaxed womb. Globs of white welled up around her netherlips, forming a puddle on the already-ruined floor. Stossen drooled and grunted, utterly focused on reshaping her insides to accommodate the rest of his gargantuan sex pillar. Ilm by arduous ilm, he forced his way deeper, until an audible gurgling sound as swelling urethra fortold another flood of semen.

His fifth climax detonated inside her, knocking the wind out of her and sending her over the edge once again. Pump after tremendous pump, she felt the skin of her belly stretching as more hot seed was packed into her womb. This ceaseless onslaught of male fertility shouldn’t have been possible, she thought. Or, she would have thought, if her intellect hadn’t already been torn to shreds by the ruthless fucking she was subjected to. All she could do was thrash in the fits of her multiple orgasms. She met his endless deluge with a deluge of her own, coating his soft Lalafell chest with violent showers of her own juices and he continued to pound away.

“Breed! So good!” he chanted mindlessly. Mere moments after his last climax petered out, his member swelled again and blasted out more cum. Alisaie gripped her face with both hands and wailed. Her belly swelled out even more. She looked like she was already a half-dozen moons into pregnancy, and still, Stossen continued to fatten her with his jizz.

“W-wait…! Slow down…!” she pleaded, though it was clear that no words would reach him. She grabbed her swollen belly to keep it from wobbling so much as he relentlessly battered the entrance to her womb. She could feel the thick cum swirling and sloshing around her insides as each thrust pushed more seed inside her. The sensation was indescribable. The divine heat from the semen spread to all corners of her body, overtaking her very soul. Her vision was beginning to darken. Stossen’s nonstop ministrations were overwhelming her, threatening to knock her unconscious. She fought to stay awake with all her might, but her constitution was invariably weakening.

As if to answer her prayers, a puissant thrust from the Lalafell dealt a decisive blow to her cervix, and the remaining eight ilms of rigid fuckmeat plunged into her pussy. Alisaie felt as if Rhalgr himself smote her brain with a levinbolt from the heavens. She could feel his steamy, heaving balls pressed against her buttocks and the head of his cock scraping against the wall of her womb. She was stricken with profound sensitivity and every nerve in her body stood on edge. She tried to scream, but only a breathy moan escaped her throat. Stossen’s cock jutted obscenely from her belly as he mimicked her inhuman howl with his own. He wrapped his whole body around her, and she around him, and came for the seventh time.

The high-pressure volleys of cum smacked into the walls of her insides, sending ripples over her belly. Another keg’s worth of gooey batter was pumped into the hapless girl, one vehement spurt at a time. The Lalafell’s body was gradually being pushed away from her embrace by her expanding girth. Stossen’s inexplicably bottomless virility seemed to be matched with Alisaie’s mystifying elasticity. She suspected the alchemy could be affecting her body through Stossen’s potent emissions. Through her blurry, tear-addled vision, she was starting to lose sight of her entangled lover behind the swelling mound of flesh. Her navel had already turned inside-out from the pressure.

“…want… hold you…” Stossen bleated softly. He grabbed Alisaie’s left thigh and hoist it from the floor.

“What are you- OOOHHHGG!” Her protest was superseded when the sensation of her engorged gut’s weight shifting around forced out a moan. She was on her side, her belly touching the floor, while the bestial Lalafell resumed his wild thrusting. He hugged her aloft leg with abandon, kissing and suckling her soft skin as he pistoned in and out of her widened cunt. She could feel his balls, resting heavy on her other thigh, bubbling and roiling as they produced more and more seed for her. Alisaie came again, her juices lost in the massive backflow that continually dribbled from where they connected and spread across the floor in an ever-growing puddle. Stossen hilted her and bawled into the skin of her calf. Yet more pearly batter spilled into her insides, adding to the flood. Alisaie lost track of how many times he came; they almost seemed to be overlapping one another into one perpetual deluge. Even so, she was certain each orgasm yielded more ejaculate than the last, and she feared for her body’s structural integrity. She was so inundated with cum that her midsection more resembled a flesh-colored slime than an abdomen. It was this very mixture of panic and pleasure that kept sending her over the precipice, causing her to clench and spasm around his behemoth cock and elicit even more seed.

“Stop… please…” she squeaked in vain. “I can’t… take… any more…”

Stossen, of course, could not heed her. The sexual berserker was lost in a carnal maelstrom as he thrust into her depths tirelessly like the pistons of a ceruleum engine while fondling Alisaie’s twitching leg. Within his drug-addled mind, everything was bliss. He never knew such pleasure in all his lonely days of using his ineffectual, cherubic hands. He wanted to treasure this wonderful, heavenly, angelic creature. He wanted to give her everything that he had and more. He wanted to meld with her. He wanted to squeeze every harmonious moan and adorable squeal out of her. It was music to his ears. But, most importantly, he wanted to breed her, breed her, _breed her_ until he had no more seeds to sow. He no words to express his joy, so he redoubled his efforts and thrust even harder, utterly ignorant to the Elezen’s distress.

As Alisaie braced herself for another breathtaking ejaculation, she kicked her legs out. She didn’t want to harm Stossen, yet wasn’t sure if she could fit any more of his hot, gluey jizz inside her. She could feel her skin grow ever more taut and it was starting to take on a more reddish color. Her limbs were like rubber, so drained of their strength from Stossen’s crushing passion. She shifted her weight and tried to find purchase on the slippery floor, which was so drenched from the cum that spilled from her snatch that the wood could no longer be seen. Miraculously, she managed to plant her foot and hand firmly and pushed with all her remaining strength… which only succeeded in stranding her atop her seed-bloated belly. The sudden lurch did not deter the tenacious Dunesfolk in the slightest, as he merely clung to her thigh with the legendary strength and determination befitting of the Warrior of Light. Alisaie, however, reeled at the rolling motion. Her distended gut wobbled and the sensation propelled her into yet another Firmament-shattering climax. Anchored by her enormously gravid belly, her extremities could no longer grip the floor, and she was consigned to the whims of Stossen’s inexhaustible sexual fervor. As if to make doubly sure of that, the indefatigable Lalafell clambered atop the immobile Elezen, cock still speared into her overflowing folds, and resumed pounding her in earnest.

“Oohhh-uughhh…” Alisaie vocalized. Her world became an undulating kaleidoscope of vivid sensations that danced and mingled at the edges of her sanity. She could feel Stossen’s enormous, pulsing dick pulverizing her insides and growing her already burgeoning womb further. She could hear his heaving balls slapping against her lower belly, drawing strings of sticky cum with every motion. He had planted his shoes on her wavering flesh and was using his entire body to drive his excruciating thrusts. He reached up and managed to grab onto Alisaie’s modest breasts and fondle them. She moaned at the addition of yet another sensation. His hands were meager, yet strong and manly. They kneaded her soft chest and tweaked her nipples.

“Alisaie…!” he croaked out quite suddenly. “Alisaie…! Alisaie…!”

“Stossssss…” was all she could offer in response. The simple act of calling out his name was now beyond her ken. She was cumming nonstop. In the dark pit of her mind, she felt like this was the end. Her gut was cherry red and she had no more room for Stossen’s emissions. She was going to be fucked to death by a Lalafell; an ignominious fate, to be sure. Yet, she was not overly concerned any longer. She was in the arms of her beloved, and that alone was something she had only dreamed of up to this point. All other worldly concerns melted away, replaced by a pleasant, luminous warmth. A smile flourished on her face. She reached for Stossen’s hands and squeezed them, interlacing her fingers amongst his. The Dunefolk’s grasping hands hesitated for a moment, then reciprocated her embrace. As her vision began to darken once again, Alisaie parted her mouth for one last whisper:

“…I love you…”

Slipping into unconsciousness, she almost didn’t hear his response.

“I love… you too…”

As if to punctuate his reply, Stossen brought his cock to bear, drawing it out all the way to the tip and drove it all the way to the sticky hilt, pressing his hips into the cheeks of her ass as far as her flesh would allow. He howled a final cry of catharsis and his shaft practically doubled in girth. The deep, burbling sound of his prodigious semen could be heard over the din as it coursed its way from his core to the tip of his massive phallus. His eyes were bulging and his teeth were gritted. Veins bulged out from his forehead as his tiny body thrashed and convulsed in an attempt to bring about his most explosive climax yet. In what felt like forcing a great river through the spout of a tea kettle, the viscous flood was finally released. Alisaie’s grossly overblown belly surged once more, lifting the two further from the ground, becoming rounder and more taut. Her skin began to creak, at last hitting the limit of its absurd elasticity. She wailed, still in her incognizant stupor. Stossen felt his virile flow slow to a halt, not because his orgasm was finished, but because his seed could find no more room in the unfortunate Elezen girl. His bottom suddenly went skyward as the immense pressure forced his bulky prick out of her nethers. It popped out and the Lalafell was sent tumbling head over heels over the prone Alisaie before landing in front of her, his head, thankfully, cushioned by her bouncy gut.

His flow no longer hampered, cum spewed out of the tip of his flailing cock in one continuous, violent stream. It sprayed the ceiling and cascaded over the entire room. Every crate, pot, tarp, book, glass, and piece of furniture… no visible surface was left unblemished by the vulgar deluge. One of the oil lamps was knocked to the ground and was subsequently quenched by the abundance of bodily fluid. The floor had been thoroughly coated and the white fluid started to rise by and ilm or two. Alisaie’s punished pussy, now uncorked, added to the torrent of semen with a waterfall of her own, bringing her miraculously intact womb much-needed relief. Stossen writhed in the midst of his cataclysmic ejaculation, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull, trying to push out bucket upon bucket of scalding jizz as faster than he could produce it. He gripped the pliable flesh of Alisaie’s belly and bucked his hips. His screams came out hoarse and dry. The devastating expulsion of seed lasted for close to a whole minute before the flow finally slowed to a trickled and his giant Lala-dick went mercifully soft. With a sigh, Stossen relinquished his grip, slumped against Alisaie’s, and promptly passed out.

Behind one of the now-oozing containers, the clandestine third occupant was curled up tightly and shivering. They, like everything else, were covered in Stossen’s pungent slime. They had barely witnessed the series of events that unfolded in that room before they had to turn away and try to endure the terrifying rancor of their savage lovemaking. Hearing no more sounds, the traumatized pixie used their trembling hand to wipe away the viscous glop from their harrowed face. It was safe to say that they no longer found this excursion to be amusing.

“M-m-mortals are s-scary…”

* * *

Stossen roused himself to a familiar, yet overwhelming odor. He wiped away some clammy sludge from his face and opened his eyes to a dimly lit world of shimmering white. He glanced downward to find that his shirt was missing and his kecks were in shreds and soaked, his flaccid member unprotected. He was sitting it a pool of tepid goo that nearly came up to his waist, and his back was up against something springy and warm. Everything in the storeroom was devastated beyond saving. His foggy mind couldn’t understand how it got this way and the suffocating musk that permeated the air wasn’t helping to quicken his thinking. He was exhausted and his limbs were like stone, but, at the same time, he felt fresh and relieved. Curious. It wasn’t until he heard a soft groan from nearby did the mind-haze finally disperse, and he knew exactly what his back was leaning on.

“Alisaie!” Stossen stumbled and slipped to his feet, disturbing the pond of cum, and turned to her bloated friend. The Elezen Scion was a sight to behold. Her silver hair was matted with sticky jizz. Tears, mucus, and drool exuded from their respective orifices. Her reddish eyes were open by but a sliver. She was still strewn over her excessively distended midsection. She seemed to acknowledge the Lalafell’s presence with a subtle flick of her eyes. The corners of her mouth curled upwards and she began… giggling.

“Ehehehehe… hehehe…” she tittered in a most unbecoming manner. Stossen, however, couldn’t be more mortified.

“Oh Twelve! Oh my gods! Are… are you okay? I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to… I must have mixed the wrong catalyst! I… oh gods…!”

Alisaie just kept giggling, punctuated by the occasional girlish squeal as she shifted around atop her engorged belly. She couldn’t imagine what the small man was fussing over. She felt positively _radiant._

“I’m ffffine,” she slurred. “I fffeel wonderfullll… oh… never been better… you shlure know… how to treat a lady… you absolute ssssstud!” She gave him a playful prod in the chest.

Stossen’s hysteria only grew. “I-I can fix this! I… I’ll get you back to normal! I swear! Oh gods…! What have I done…?! Oh no…”

He waded around the room in search of his things as Alisaie rubbed and squeezed her belly, pushing a surge of warm semen out from her tingly nethers and shivering at the sensation.

“Ooohhh,” she cooed. “Take your time… I want to stay like this for a while… mmmmm…”

The Dunesfolk returned with his cum-saturated shirt and an equally-soaked rucksack.

“I’ll be back soon! I’ll get the chirurgeon and some magicked mops- a hundred magicked mops! Oh no, do they even sell magicked mops?! Are those even a thing?!”

“Wait,” she called out and grabbed his wrist. Stossen faced the disheveled girl, who seemed to have sobered up a measure. She tightened her lips and looked into the Warrior of Light’s emerald eyes plaintively.

“Did you mean it?”

Stossen furrowed his brow in confusion. “What do you mean? I… I think if magicked brooms exist there should be-”

“No,” she pleaded and gripped him tighter. “Did you mean it when you said… you loved me?”

Stossen opened his mouth, but no words came to him immediately. He cast his eyes downward. Alisaie saw his sullen face and her spirit lessened. Perhaps, she thought, it was merely the heat of the moment. She quickly regretted her attempt to capitalize on this extreme circumstance. She sincerely felt like she had used him and his lustful frenzy for her own gratification, even if it appeared the opposite. She was about to loosen her hand when he suddenly cleared his throat.

“To be honest, I never looked at you in that way,” he began. “You’re… fierce and brave and good-natured, and full glad am I to have had you as my friend among the Scions, but…” his eyes rose to meet hers and he beamed. “Now I can see… how much you really care about me… and what a gorgeous woman you are… and I don’t think I’ll ever, in all my travels, find another phenomenal lady like you.”

Alisaie’s lips trembled and her eyes became misty again. “Ohhh…! All that _and_ you’re a sappy, romantic little goblin! Come here…!”

She tugged him towards her, grabbed his head, and smashed his lips against hers in a deep and passionate kiss. Stossen was taken by surprise, but he relaxed his shoulders, dropped his belongings into the pearly muck, and returned her embrace, gently holding the back of her neck with both hands. She let his little tongue caress her teeth and cheeks, then, she invaded his mouth and lavished it with affection. The two swayed in each others arms for a dozen long moments before breaking away with a lingering smack and a couple strings of cooling ejaculate, which Alisaie then swatted away as she giggled.

“It would have been more proper if you had said that _before_ you fucked my brains out.”

Stossen sputtered at her tawdry choice of words. “Well… I don’t know these things! I’m an adventurer! I’m not, well, I’m not exactly _genteel,_ ya know?”

She smiled broadly. “You can certainly say that again!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled nervously. “But, well, if you still want to go out for lunch, I’ll… um… be glad to pay for it. Hehe...”


End file.
